


I'm Crying Over You

by videogamedoc87



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, I have jumped on the bandwagon, M/M, Multi, this is angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6809197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/videogamedoc87/pseuds/videogamedoc87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't supposed to be this way. They were all supposed to grow old together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [holograms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holograms/gifts).



> This was born of conversations with holograms. She infected me with her angst. And I am sorry.

It was inevitable that Thomas would go first. He was close to twenty years older than the Hamiltons, his health not great in the last few years of his life, but that didn't make it any easier. Even after almost 15 years as a(triad? Trio? Alex wasn't ever sure) whatever they were it hadn't been enough. 

“You were supposed to be here,” Alex whispers, fingers tracing Thomas's name on the headstone.

“Mary is due any day now. There's been a last minute name change for the baby. John made an executive decision and they’re naming him after you and me. Thomas Alexander Hamilton. I can hear you gloating about your name being first. I bet you're laughing at me right now,” Alex chokes on a sob.

It's been a week since Thomas died. A week since Alex has done anything more than the bare minimum to function. His now gray hair is pulled back in a messy bun, clothes rumpled and he can feel the dew from the grass seeping into his jeans. The headstone is cold against his back when he turns to sit against it, head thumping against the marble. 

“Trust you to write your own epitaph. Pretentious bastard.” Alex smile, a sad little thing and he sighs heavily, fingers digging into the still soft earth over Thomas's grave.

He and Eliza had been blown away at the reading of Thomas's will, he'd left them everything, including Monticello.

_ “What are we going to do with a fucking plantation?” Alex had fumed in the cab on the way home. _

Those had been the first words Alex had spoken since Thomas died, his grief too powerful to name. Too powerful to put into words.

“Who's going to argue with me over Locke now?” Alex murmurs in French, tears falling steadily down his cheeks.

A hand appears in front of him and he looks up to see Eliza, her own face streaked with tear tracks, mascara running from the corners of her eyes.

“The cab driver needs to know how much longer. Apparently his shift ended an hour ago.” Her voice is soft, like Alex is a spooked animal she's trying to calm.

“I think I'll walk home. Would you like to join me?”

She nods and disappears from view for a few moments. When she comes back she sits next to Alex, leaning against his shoulder.

“I miss him Betsey. I miss him so fucking much,” Alex sobs and turns to bury his face in Eliza's neck, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Me too,” she says softly.

Her hands come up to run over Alex's hair, and they sit together, mourning the man they loved.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death comes for everyone. Even those who go non-stop.

_ “Damn Ham Sandwich. You look like shit. And you still smell like fake royalty.” _

Alex's eyes darted around the room as he tried to find the source of the voice.

_ “Over here Alex.” _

The voice was coming from the direction of the window. Alex turned his head on the pillow and smiled. Thomas was leaning against the glass, dressed in his favorite(and Alex's secret favorite)purple velvet suit.

“Hey Macaroni Man. What took you so long? I've been dying for days now.” A laugh turned to a cough and Alex's whole body ached. It was pneumonia according to the doctors and Alex's eighty five year old body wasn't dealing with it very well. His eyes fell shut as he tried to get his breathing back under control.

_ “You know how much I hate flying commercial. The jet was in for repairs. I knew you'd live until I got here. You're too stubborn not to.” _

“You're not wrong,” Alex muttered. “It's been so long Thomas. We missed you so much.”

A cool hand touched his forehead and Thomas was standing next to him when Alex opened his eyes again. Thomas stroked a hand over Alex's hair and down to run his thumb across Alex's cheekbone.

“Am I still pretty?” Alex said with a grin.

_ “Still as weird looking as ever.” _

“Ha! This from the man who wore an orange bowtie with a plaid shirt. Don't talk to me about weird looking.”

“Alex? Who are you talking to?” Eliza's soft voice preceeded her entrance into the room.

“Thomas came from Virginia. I told you he'd be here.”

Eliza smiled sadly and sat next to Alex on the bed. “Alex, sweetheart, Thomas isn't here.”

Alex huffed a quiet laugh and patted Eliza's hand. “I know you're old Betsey and your vision isn't the best, it's ok. He probably just looks like a purple blur to you.”

_ “She can't see me Ham Sandwich. You can because, well because you'll be joining me soon.” _

A sob escaped Alex as the meaning of Thomas's words finally hit him. “I can't leave her alone Thomas,” he whispered.

_ “She'll be fine. And when it's her time? We'll come get her together. I promise. Now, we have places to be Alexander. Madison is driving me crazy and I'm tired of not having anyone to argue with. It's time to go.” _

Alex turned to look at Eliza, a shaky hand reaching up to stroke her cheek.

“I love you. I love you both so much.”

The next thing Alex knew he was standing next to Thomas by the window, watching as Eliza cried over him. Thomas took his hand and they were gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All they have is time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we come to the final piece of the puzzle. I hope you have enjoyed this little slice of angst. Cookies for you if you found all the lyric references. 
> 
> Once again dedicated to the Burr to my Hamilton the wonderful holograms <3

_“It's almost time Alexander. We should go to her.”_

_“What if she can't see us? What if she doesn't_ **_want_ ** _to see us?”_

_“She's going to be so happy. And you damn well know it, so stop it. You're making me nervous.”_

Alex and Thomas stood by Eliza's bed, one on either side. Her eyes fluttered open and tears sprang to her eyes when she saw them. 

“My handsome boys. I have missed both of you so much,” her voice was dry and cracked by age and she coughed as she spoke.

Alex thought she'd never looked more beautiful. He looked up and Thomas had tears in his eyes as he reached down to take Eliza's hand.

_“Are you crying Mac Man?”_

_“Ham Sandwich I swear on our graves I will smack you if you don't shut up now.”_

“Boys! Stop it! Now I'm guessing you're here for a reason? My time is up isn't it?”

Alex nods and strokes the thin skin on the back or Eliza's hand.

_“It's time Betsey. Come help me keep Ham Sandwich in line.”_

Thomas seems just as startled as Alex that he'd called Eliza “Betsey.” That had been Alex's nickname for her and he and Eliza had both given Thomas permission to use it if he wanted but he never had.

“Really Thomas? It takes me being on my deathbed for you to call me Betsey?”

There's amusement in Eliza's quiet voice and Alex can tell she doesn't have much time left. Her breathing is more labored and her pulse is weak under his thumb.

_“We've missed you. I'm sorry you have to leave the kids and grandkids but we are happy you'll be with us again.”_

“I'm ready. I expect reunion sex. And here's hoping I look as good as the two of you.”

The three of them link hands once Eliza appears beside Alex, her face once again youthful, her hair long and dark instead of short and white.

_“I'd almost forgotten how handsome the two of you were. Now take me home, I have_ **_years_ ** _to make up for.”_

_"Best of wives and best of women"_

_"She has the best ideas for sure. Except marrying you."_

_" **Boys!** Talk less, strip more."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sort of happy ending.


End file.
